Her Second Son
by Min Daae
Summary: Written for Yuletide 2009. Tersa always likes when Lucivar comes to visit. Written in somewhat fragmented Tersa-voice.


She had been pretending not to listen for it for the whole afternoon, but she was still awfully relieved when the knock came on the door. "Lucivar?"

"It's me. I brought some muffins as bribes."

"Silly boy. You don't need bribes." Tersa opened the door a crack, just to be sure it was really him before letting the boy in. He might be taller than her now, but she remembered him more as a tiny squalling baby waving his fists in the air, and even without that he would always be a boy in most ways.

He gave her one of those slightly shy half smiles, wings shuffling a little over each other. "Got anything that needs doing?"

"You don't always have to work," she informed him, with a frown. "I want you to not work today especially. Come inside. Do you want any milk?"

"Don't you have any ale?"

"Milk first," she said and crossed her arms. "Two whole glasses. And sit down while you're eating." The boy sighed and pouted at her, but she could tell that he was smiling in his eyes, and that was good enough. "Are you going to stand there all day?"

"Fine, fine. I'll have a glass of milk." He sat down obediently, setting down the basket of muffins on the table. Tersa could smell them even from across the room where she was getting the mugs out of the cabinets – the boy had helped make those, too, and when they were squeaky he'd fixed them. His wife, Marian, she was a good woman too. Knew how to take care of a Prince, and she did make the most wonderful muffins.

"You are too quiet," she said, looking for where she'd put the milk, unable to quite remember where it was.

"It's nice to have a little quiet. My house never is, these days, between the wolf pups and Daemonar. But all right. Marian told me to tell you that she wants you coming to our house sometime, and she hopes I'm not eating you out of house and home."

Tersa smiled a little. "You are not eating me out of anything. You may tell her that I will think about visiting and that I know how to manage a boy's diet."

Lucivar laughed. That was good, he laughed more often now. When he'd first started visiting he had never laughed at all.

"All right, understood. I'm not going to have a muffin until you come and take one, though."

"You are only going to have one for now," she scolded him.

It was just a game, of course – she knew he wasn't a child, and he knew it too, but it was one of the things she liked about this winged almost-son, that he never needed to tell her the way to be. He never asked if she was all right and on her bad days he acted just the same as on the good days. He wasn't afraid to touch her but never made her nervous. It was nice, sometimes, to feel like someone didn't think she would break if they hugged her.

The milk was at the back of one of the cabinets, and she poured a glass slowly and brought it over to Lucivar, setting it down with a clink. "There. And I will watch you drink all of it so don't think you can trick me."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Tersa," he said meekly, but he smiled too. She took a muffin out of the basket and smelled it, holding it between her palms. Lucivar put his elbows on the table and opened his mouth.

"Elbows off the table," she said, without looking, and set down the muffin to sip her own glass of milk. Lucivar took his elbows off the table.

"Can you tell me more about Tangled Webs?"

"Not while I am eating," Tersa said, primly, and he nodded.

"Well, of course not. That would be rude."

"At least you are learning some manners," she said, haughtily, but smiled at him so he knew she was joking. That was important, that he knew that, especially for Lucivar. His mother had not been good to him. Tersa felt that she shouldn't be saying such things, even in her head, about Luthvian, because Luthvian had been a friend, once. But she didn't like Lucivar's wings, even if he didn't say so on the rare occasions he talked about her that much was clear, and she thought he should be something other than what he was. If Luthvian were still alive, Tersa would give her a talking to.

"You have beautiful wings," she said, because she was thinking about it. "Like dark silk. You should know." He looked so surprised, though, that she almost felt bad for saying it. "It's a good thing," she added, instead of apologizing.

"I know it's a good thing – I'm rather fond of them myself, actually – but is there any particular reason why…?"

He wouldn't like it if she said that she was thinking about his mother. She pretended to forget where the conversation was going. "Finish your milk and you can have another muffin, but not before then." Tersa got up and wandered over to touch her plants, playing with the leaves. "I think they are growing."

"Sometimes I think you just don't want to answer my questions," said Lucivar, in a frowny sort of voice, and because she didn't want him to be frowny she smiled at him.

"Drink your milk."

"I am, I will." He shook his head, but he was smiling in his eyes again. Tersa liked it when he did that. Lucivar was a good boy, really.

She wandered over with a last brush of her fingers over the plants and just stood up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "You are a good boy," she said. "A good boy with beautiful wings."

He didn't have to know that she was adopting him. But even grown boys needed a mother, especially Lucivar. He needed a good mother. Daemon said she was a good mother, and even if sometimes Daemon lied with the best of intentions he hadn't been lying about that.

She nodded firmly, and made a note to mention this adoption to Saetan when he came to visit on Thursday. She thought he might like that.

Lucivar hugged her before he left. He had a good hug, strong and nice and warm and not confining. "Goodbye, Tersa," he said, and because she could, Tersa reached up and tugged on his hair.

"Goodbye, Lucivar," she offered, and then gave him a frown. "Drink your milk."

"I wouldn't dare forget," he said, with a little bit of a smile, and was gone.


End file.
